by A. J. Byrd
“Nothing. I just want a smoke.” She shrugs her shoulders and then makes her way back over to the bed. Once she’s sitting beside me I see what’s in the bag and my eyes nearly bug out of my head.
“Tyler! You smoke weed now?”
“Shhhh!” She bumps into one side of my shoulder. “What are you trying to do, get my old man to bust in on me or something?”
While my mouth is still hanging open, Tyler dips over the side and reaches under the bed where she proceeds to pull out an old Nike shoe box. Next thing I know I’m watching her gut out some type of cigar thingy, and then she reaches for her bag of weed. I’m just watching her and shaking my head. Who is this chick?
Tyler licks, rolls and then lights up. After taking a deep pull from her handmade blunt, she holds the smoke in her lungs and then passes the damn thing over to me.
I shake my head. “No, thanks.”
“Come on,” she squeaks while still holding her breath. “Don’t knock it until you try it.” She pushes the blunt toward me again. “I said no.” I move and then climb off the bed.
“Don’t be a bitch and go out there and snitch to Leon.”
Bitch? “How about you stop being an ass?”
“Uh-oh.” Tyler exhales. “It looks like you’re reconsidering giving me that lecture.”
I open my mouth and then close it. What am I supposed to say? Something that I know she already knows? Still, I have to try something, right? “I’m just trying to understand what’s going on with you. You’re not acting like the Tyler I’ve known all my life. Hanging out with Billie Grant’s crew? Shoplifting? Smoking pot?”
“You’re lecturing,” she warns.
“Well, maybe you need it,” I snap. “What am I supposed to do, just watch you make one mistake after another? What kind of friend would that make me?”
“One that’s a lot easier to be around.”
“So now you want to crack jokes?” I fold my arms. “Nothing good has ever come from the road you’re traveling down, and you know it. You want to be the next Billie Grant, is that it? The bitch is a loser who is never going anywhere and will likely be living right here ten years from now just like her mother and grandmother. Do you really want to peak at fourteen?”
“You’re still lecturing,” she says, drawing in another toke.
“And you’re still being an ass!”
Tyler’s brows pop up in amusement at me. “Are you finished now?”
“Look, and I say this with love, you’re going to have to get your shit together. I understand that you’re hurting.”
Tyler’s eyes cut away.
“You miss your mom. Hell, I miss mine, too. And I’m pretty sure that Kierra misses hers, as well. But at least you still have one parent, who, it’s clear to everyone but you, is doing all he can to reach you.”
“Yeah, I remember just how much he tried when he forgot I existed.”
“That was then. This is now!”
“So I’m supposed to just forget about that.”
“Yes! Forgive and forget. That’s what you’re supposed to do.” I start to move toward the bed. “He was devastated when your mom left just like you were. And seeing how he is now, I think you’re devastating him all over again because you’re here, but it’s like you’ve walked out on him, too.” Silence.
I shake my head. “I love you, Tyler. You’re more than a best friend. You’re like a sister to me. But I have to tell you. I’m disappointed in the choices you’ve been making lately. Get your head out of the clouds and start facing reality. Because the bottom line is that you hurt people, too, by shutting them out.”
Finally she glances up at me with glassy eyes. “Are you through now?”
In one ear and out the other. “Yeah.” I head toward her door. “I’ll catch you later.”
fifteen
Romeo—You’re Not Listening
I’m making stupid mistakes on the football field. I can’t seem to catch, throw or execute the simplest play because I can’t get Anjenai off my mind. It started when I caught her talking to Kwan after gym class the other day, and then today I saw him walk her to her locker. What’s going on with them? Are they a couple now?
I’m not going to lie and say that it doesn’t bother me that she can move on so quickly. And who is this dude, anyway? Just because he can spit some rhymes and dress all right girls are losing their damn minds over him. I think Shadiq was right to be suspicious of him. I’m not down for just letting anybody into our private circle, but Chris tries to invite the dude to everything. I think Chris knows I don’t like the homeboy, but he has Kwan tagging along as some kind of payback for that little fight in the locker room. And when he presses me on why I don’t like the new guy, what am I supposed to say—that I don’t like the way he’s always hanging around my ex-girl?
Larry “T-bone” Owens charges and tackles me from my blind side. Next thing I know I have a mouthful of grass and the coach is blowing his whistle.
“What the hell was that, Blackwell?” Coach Irving shouts from the sideline. “Are you sleeping out there?”
“No, sir!”
“You can’t prove that by me! You haven’t completed a play yet!”
All eyes are on me. I suddenly feel like the headliner of a freak show. “I’ll pull it together, coach!”
“You better!” He blows his whistle and we all huddle for the next play. Concentrate. Concentrate. But that’s easier said than done. The whistle blows, the ball is passed and I try to spot my open man before throwing the ball. Larry charges and my mind goes blank again. “Grrl.”
I’m hit again. This time I land hard on my back and am left to try and blink yellow stars from my eyes. When my vision clears, Larry is there reaching a hand down to me to help me up. “Thanks, man.”
Coach Irving is blowing his whistle like a toddler having a conniption fit. When he finally finishes, he orders, “Get off the field, Blackwell! Your playing today is jacking up my high blood pressure.”
“Yes, coach!” Despite my disappointment, I run off the field with my head held high.
“Simmons, get in there! It’s your turn to show me what they’ve been teaching you up in New York.”
“Yes, coach!” Kwan grabs a helmet and runs out onto the field.
It takes everything I have not to stick out my foot and trip him up. I watch him as he huddles with his scrimmage team. Yes, I’m rooting for this guy to stink on the field. No point in trying to deny it. Being the star quarterback has always been my role, and I’m not liking it the least bit that this dude was able to just walk onto the team when we’ve already started our season.
The players line up in defensive formation. Coach Irving blows the whistle and Kwan drops back and I watch this boy throw a perfect spiraling ball down the center to Chris, who, in turn, takes off like a superhero toward the goal line.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Coach Irving shouts. “That’s how we play some damn football.”
I’m getting dizzy because my eyes are rolling to the back of my head so much. So what? The boy can throw. Big deal. By the end of practice, I’m so hot under the collar I don’t know what to do.
“Good practice, man,” Kwan says, running up to me and offering me his hand. Why the hell is he in my face lying? Everybody knows that I played like shit today.
“Yeah. Yeah. You, too.”
Kwan frowns at me. “Yo, man. Did I do something to you that I don’t know about?” he asks straight up.
This is my chance to tell this brother to back the hell up off Anjenai, and please believe that it’s on the tip of my tongue when I see Phoenix suddenly popping up and waving as she rushes toward us. I groan. “Naw, man,” I lie. “I’m just upset with my performance today.”
A smile stretches back across Kwan’s face. “Well, I know how that is. We all have our good and bad days.”
“Yeah. Whatever.”
“Hey, guys,” Phoenix says, finally catching up to us. “Had a good practice?”
I ro
ll my eyes.
“It was pretty good,” Kwan answers for both of us. Two seconds later, my boys and the other Redbones join the circle. And everyone is talking about going to Club Zero, a teen nightspot that caters to the hip-hop and R&B crowd.
“Chris has been telling me that the club hosts a rap battle every Thursday night.”
Bianca thrusts her breasts up on Kwan’s arm. “Are you thinking about going up onstage?”
I lift a brow. I would love it if Kwan would take an interest in Bianca instead of Anjenai.
“Maybe. Right now I just want to check the place out, see who the real competition is in this town.”
Chris is nodding his head. He’s been to Club Zero hundreds of times, and he has yet to find the balls to take the mike. It doesn’t stop him from criticizing all the performances and advising how he’d have done differently. Not that I doubt my man’s commitment to music. I’ve listened to his flow for years. He’s good. But there’s something about getting up onstage and doing his thing in front of thousands of people that pulls him up short. Maybe Kwan will help him get over his stage fright.
“So are you down or what?” Shadiq asks, pulling me out of my silence.
I really don’t want to hang with this dude. “I don’t know. I’ve got a lot of homework I need to get caught up on.”
Six pairs of eyes narrow on me like I’ve just sprouted another head.
“Maybe next time,” I say.
“Hold on,” Phoenix tells the group and then starts pulling me aside. “What’s up with you?” she hisses.
“Is that a real question?”
“What? This means that you’re going to mope for the rest of the school year?”
“Well, I certainly don’t feel like dancing and celebrating. And you shouldn’t, either.” I pull her farther away from the crowd. “By the way, when are you going to quit the cheerleading squad?”
“Quit?”
I’m surprised that the thought hadn’t occurred to her. “Phoenix,” I say, trying not to laugh, “jumping, tumbling and falling can’t be good for the baby.”
“I’m fine. The baby’s fine,” she says defensively. “I’ll quit before I start to show.”
That doesn’t sound right. “What does the doctor say?”
“Doctor?”
“You haven’t gone to a doctor yet?”
“Why? I’ve got plenty of time.”
That doesn’t sound right, either. “Tomorrow we need to find a doctor. I’m fairly certain that you’re supposed to start seeing them long before you just start showing.”
“How do you know? Did you suddenly grow a uterus or something?”
“What?”
“How about you just leave the prenatal care stuff to someone who knows a little more about the female body than you do, okay?”
“What? I can’t go to the doctor’s appointments with you?”
She rolls her eyes as if my questions are bothering her. “Why do you need to go? Are you going to be the one on the table trying to push something the size of a bowling ball out of you?”
I wince and even clutch my stomach at the very thought. “No.”
“Then why do you need to go?”
“I don’t know. I thought I at least needed to be there to coach you through the delivery.”
“That’s Lamaze classes, and that’s a totally different thing.”
“It is?”
“See? You don’t know anything. Like I said, leave all the prenatal stuff to me.”
I’m already tired of arguing. “All right. Fine.”
“Good. So let’s go to Club Zero with our friends tonight.” She slides up against my sweaty chest. “Who knows? Maybe afterwards we can crash at my place. My parents left to visit my aunt in Florida this morning. They’ll be gone until Sunday night.”
I frown.
“Come on,” she purrs. “It’s been a little while since…you know.” She gives me a look that I definitely recognize.
I don’t believe this. I shake my head. “Phoenix—”
“Don’t start trying to play all hard to get. I’m still fine, and I know that despite what we’ve been through this year, you still want to get with this.”
I try not to laugh but it’s damn hard. Instead, I step back and continue to shake my head. “That’s not going to happen.”
The smile falls from her face. “What? You don’t find me attractive anymore?”
“No. That’s not it.”
“Then what? You can’t be scared that you’ll knock me up. I’m already pregnant, remember?”
I drop my head into the palm of my hand and try to massage my growing headache away. “I’m talking, but you’re not listening,” I tell her. “We’re going to have a baby together, but we’re not going to stay together. We can put on a front for everybody while you’re pregnant. I don’t want anyone to think that I’m just abandoning you.”
“But you are trying to abandon me.”
“I’m supporting you through the pregnancy. That’s it. After that we can work out details on how to raise the baby either between ourselves or with lawyers. I don’t care which. But we are not getting back together—in any shape, way or form. Got it?” With that, I turn away and head toward the gym for a hot shower. The whole while I can feel Phoenix’s gaze blazing a hole in the back of my head, and frankly, I just don’t give a damn.
sixteen
Phoenix—The Twilight Zone
Don’t panic. Don’t panic. I pull in several deep breaths as I watch Romeo storm back toward the gym. But it’s sort of hard not to panic. The whole plan is to get Romeo to get me pregnant again without him ever knowing that I lost the first pregnancy. Now he’s making it perfectly clear that he has no intention of ever sleeping with me again.
So what am I going to do now? I have no idea.
“So are we going tonight or what?” Bianca asks, stepping up behind me.
I slam my eyes closed in order to give myself a quick second to pull myself together. “Yeah. Why not? We can go without him,” I say, turning and putting on a bright smile.
My girls give me a look that questions my ability to control my man. Hell, I’m starting to question it myself. He’ll come around. I’ve been telling myself that a lot lately, because in the past it has always been true. But it doesn’t feel true anymore. In fact, I’m still fighting this feeling of doom and finality that’s moving in between Romeo and me. And I can’t help thinking that this entire thing still has something to do with Anjenai.
I don’t get it. What can Romeo possibly see in that scrawny freshman, anyway? Isn’t she, like, a nerd or something?
“Are you all right?” Raven asks, coming to my other side and swinging an arm around my waist in some lame attempt to act like she really cares.
“Yeah, girl. He’s just tripping because he thinks I should be stepping down off the cheerleading team. You know Romeo, he’s just so concerned about the baby.”
“Ah,” they say, nodding their heads. Lying that Romeo is concerned about my health and the baby’s is a hell of a lot better than letting them know that he simply doesn’t give a damn about me anymore.
“Actually, I was wondering the same thing,” Bianca squeaks. “It can’t be healthy for you to be tumbling off pyramids and stuff.”
“Puh-lease. You just want to be head cheerleader,” I tell her.
She glances toward Raven and shrugs. “So?”
My brows jump. Is this heifer actually going to be bold enough to admit it to my face? My, my, my. The worm is turning.
“What’s the big deal?” Bianca asks. “If you can’t be head cheerleader, then why can’t one of us try out for the slot? Or can the spotlight only fall on you?”
Both she and Raven raise their brows at me, and I feel ganged up on. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to,” Bianca says. “You act like it. In fact, you always just expect us to play second and third fiddle like it’s your due or something.”
“I do n
ot.”
“Yes, you do,” Raven says, frowning and crossing her arms. “We’ve been nothing but loyal and supportive toward you since grade school. You, on the other hand, act like you’re just tolerating us. And you’re always suspicious. Like we’re always trying to get what you got.”
“Well, aren’t you?” I challenge. Time out for all this two-against-one BS. “You think I don’t know that you gossip behind my back? The only reason that you two sniff up after me is that you secretly want to be me.”
“WHAT?” they thunder in unison.
“Oookay,” Chris says. “I think that this is where we exit stage left.” He looks to Kwan and Shadiq. “Come on. Let’s hit the showers while they have this catfight. Something tells me it’s not going to be pretty.” He and Shadiq snicker, but Kwan casts us a sympathetic look.
My brows knit together while I wonder what that’s all about. As he heads back toward the gym behind Chris and Shadiq, I finally take a good look at him. Bianca and Raven didn’t lie in describing him. He is definitely fine, and rumor has it that he is just as good on the football field as Romeo.
Bianca steps into my line of vision. “No. You’re not checking out my man.”
I roll my eyes at them. “He’s not your man—yet. And no, I wasn’t checking him out, I was just—”
“Bitch, I just saw you,” Bianca squeaks at the top of her voice. “You got some nerve, you know that?”
“And you’re delusional, too,” Raven chimes in. “We want to be you? Where the hell you get that nonsense? We ain’t a couple of ugly chicks. And we got our own shine. Our parents are rolling just as fat as yours. So what do I want—blond hair? I can buy that shit in a bottle. You might have a little more ass, but your tits are MIA. All right? Bianca and I have been nothing but loyal to you, and we get nothing in return.”
“That’s not true.”
“No? Then how come you never told us you were pregnant? How come we had to find out along with the rest of the school? We’re supposed to be your best friends. We have never kept a secret from you. And all this mistrust and secrets—how the hell do you think that makes us feel?”